When It Rains
by xMidnight Muse
Summary: Susan is having a tough time knowing how to come to terms with the fact that she won't be returning home.


Susan sat on her window seat, watching the rain pelt against the window

Susan sat on her window seat, watching the rain pelt against the window. To most people the rain and thunder would be a downer on the day, but she found the constant rhythm and darkness comforting. She had always been this way though, ask any of her family members and they could tell you that her favorite time was when it rained.

She sat with her sketchbook perched on her lap and she twirled a pencil in her hand. In front of her stood a mess of lines that with a little touch could turn in to her latest masterpiece.

Well, maybe masterpiece wasn't exactly the best word for it. Susan was an amateur artist who did it simply for the love of it. She'd never taken lessons and never shown her work in an exhibit or anything like that. In fact, she'd never shown anyone her work, it was something strictly her own. She wasn't even sure if her siblings were aware of her artistic flare.

She bit her lip thoughtfully as she placed the tip of the pencil back on the page. Her wrist moved in long, broad strokes leaving a trail of gray behind it. Her hand almost moved without her thinking about it, the movements were so natural.

As another line of lightning streaked the sky, Susan continued to sketch, almost in a feverish manner. The world around her seemed to melt away and the only things left were the crisp white page and the dark gray graphite.

As her pencil strokes became shorter and more definite, a form was taking shape on the paper. First, the outline of a face appeared with chiseled features and a genuine smile gracing the features; one that was all too familiar.

Next, the shape of a torso came from her pencil. It was clad in chain mail and armor; the chest was broad and strong. And from there sprouted a pair of arms which showed a great amount of power and muscle.

Finally, stemming from the arms and resting at the bottom of the page were two hands. Each one was shaded just so to show that they were calloused and powerful.

Returning back to the head of the person, a pair of eyes were formed, shaded to show that they were a dark and intense color, underneath them a perfectly shaped nose was created. And to finish of the drawing, a head of dark hair was drawn to complete the person.

When the drawing was perfected, Susan placed her pencil next to her on the bench and propped the pad on the window so she could get a better look at it.

She was surprised how close to the real thing the drawing looked. It had been a long four months since she had last seen the subject of her drawing, yet his picture was still fresh in her memory.

She distinctly remembered the sound of his voice, the sound of his laugh and every small detail of him. Susan missed him dearly; the drawing was simply a way to preserve him, but was not a comfort mechanism.

She thought that with more time, it was possible that she could have fallen in love with him. More then possible actually. They had connected so well, like the moon and the stars.

With a sigh, she turned to a fresh page.

Susan had come to accept that she would probably never see him again. Aslan had told her and Peter that they were never to return to the land, and the lion was not one to turn on his word.

It certainly wasn't an easy acceptance though – not even kind of. For weeks after their return, Susan had been completely heartbroken and felt as though her life was crumbling before her. But as time passed, with her siblings' support and help, she was able to focus on her future.

She had made it through the first part of her school year, now back at home for the winter break. She was actually quite surprised with the progress she had made.

Though the thought of the handsome Telmarine still haunted her dreams, she had come to accept the cruelties of life and figured it would be best not to dwell on what could have been and focus on the things that would be.

Susan closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the rain beating against the house. She kept her mind empty, waiting for her next subject to come to her head. The first thought that came was that of home.

She reopened her eyes, placing the tip of her pencil on the blank page, and again let her hand take full control.

This time, instead the shape of a person forming, a brilliant structure appeared; a building with stone walls and great towers shooting up from it. A wooden gate stood in the center of the building's face, and the walls were spotted with windows leading in to various rooms and chambers.

Once it was finished, Susan glanced down and really looked at her drawing of home. Immediately fresh tears sprouted in her eyes as a sad realization hit her. The sketch showed a brilliant castle, looking more fantastic then any castle in England – or the world for that matter.

She realized with a pang that her home was not the house in Finchley where she was currently sitting. But her home was a radiant palace, surrounded by fields, and rivers and a magnificent beach.

Her home was a place she would not be going back to, a thought that made her feel suffocated.

Susan shut her sketchbook and threw it to the ground. She didn't need to be remembered of the life she had been denied as if the constant thoughts and dreams weren't enough. She sighed, dropping her pencil to the ground. If she were to illustrate any more of her thoughts, she was sure she would end up with more sorrow then relief.

She placed her cheek against the glass of her window. The cold shocked her slightly, but she relished in the feeling. She watched the droplets of rain streak down the glass next to her face, not noticing her own silent tears making there way down her face.

She couldn't believe she was crying again. Susan had wasted so many of her tears after they had returned on things that she couldn't control, and she found it extremely exhausting. It was beyond her control though; she simply couldn't stop herself from feeling these things, despite her fruitless efforts.

Her quiet wallowing was disrupted by the squeak of her door opening; however, she didn't bother to turn to greet her visitor. After a few moments of hesitation, she heard the sound of feet shuffling across her bedroom floor. The cushion of the window seat shifted as a new weight was added to it.

Susan shifted her eyes to see her brother sitting next to her, staring out the window as well. His dark eyes followed the drops of water and reflected the eerie bluish light of the lightning that marred the grey sky.

For just a minute, the two sat in a comfortable silence. That was one of the great things about their relationship; they didn't always need to talk. They shared the type of bond where words weren't always necessary and they could sit contentedly together without needing to speak a word.

But eventually, their silence was broken, but only with a whisper.

"You miss it, don't you?" he asked her quietly, feeling that he would ruin the moment if he were to raise his voice.

Susan sighed deeply, her breath leaving a splotch of steam on the icy window. She waited until it had evaporated before speaking, "more then you know" she responded, equally as quiet.

She lifted her cheek from the window and instead leaned her back against the wall. Susan took a moment to really look at her brother.

His dark hair stood up across his head – messy as usual. His skin looked ghostly pale in the strange light of the weather. Susan figured that she probably looked the same seeing as they were very similar in appearance.

She also noted that despite the fact that he was younger then her, he sat a good few inches above her. It was a trait he must have inherited from their father, tall and lean. It didn't really surprise her much though. Over the past couple of months, the young boy that she had known for years had shot up and become quite the strapping young man. Susan smiled at the thought of her little brother growing up to be an adult, despite the fact that the thought was somewhat terrifying.

"You know Su", he started, turning his eyes to meet her own. She was always startled by the intensity held in his brown eyes. The expression and life shown in them could not be matched by any other pair of eyes.

"I've been thinking lately about something Aslan said to me a long time ago, after he and the others had rescued me from the White Witch" he stopped momentarily to visibly wince at the thought of the terrible days he had spent with the horrid witch. In response, she laid her hand comfortingly over his; he offered her a warm smile in return before returning to his sober expression.

"He told me that despite my sins and defiance, I would always have my home in Narnia. He said that no matter what would come of me in the future, I would always be able to look to my country as my home, and nothing could ever change that" he explained, moving his hand on top of hers and absentmindedly running his thumb over it.

"I would assume that the same goes for you" he said, lifting his eyebrows slightly. She bit her lip lightly, taking in his words. She had never thought of it like that before.

He smiled softly at her, recognizing the thoughtful look across her face. His eyes scanned her room, resting on the abandoned sketchbook and pencil. With an intrigued look etched on his face, he released his sister's hand and stretched his body to lift both items. After he had succeeded, he tucked the pencil behind his ear and proceeded to open the book.

Susan opened her mouth to protest, nervous at him viewing her personal drawings, but closed it reluctantly, simply allowing him to look through her work.

The siblings again sat in silence as the younger of the two gazed intently at the pages, turning to the next drawing only after he had taken in ever detail. The first drawing, he was surprised to see, was of himself. There, captured on the page, he sat, lounging on one of the family's chairs, his eyes dancing and a smile tugging at his lips.

Susan watched him as he turned the pages, finding drawings of their other siblings, their parents, nature and many other subjects. As he progressed about halfway through the drawings, he saw different types of people portrayed in the drawings. Fauns, nymphs, mermaids, centaurs, dryads, dwarves and many other Narnian creatures danced across the pages, causing the boy to smile at the memories.

"These are incredible" he breathed, his eyes still glued to the drawings. If he had looked up, he would have seen his sister blush deeply and smile.

"They're nothing really. Just…sketches" she assured him, feeling the need to humble herself. She had never been the best at simply accepting compliments.

"Susan, I had no idea that you could draw like this" he marveled, almost mesmerized by the hundreds of lines that turned the blank pages in to brilliant works of art. Again, she felt her face flush, but also felt a certain pride burn within her. Though she had never intended these drawings to be seen by anyone but herself, she was pleased that someone else appreciated and liked them.

"It's just something I do to relax. It's like my stress reliever" she explained to him as he turned to some of the last drawings. He paused when he came to the drawing of the familiar, foreign king, pausing to look up at her. Of course he was aware of the heartache she had experienced due to their separation and he was never quite sure whether or not she had recovered. But with a nod of her head, Susan assured her brother that, at least for the time being, that wasn't really her concern.

He turned to the last drawing and tilted his head slightly, something that Susan knew he did when he was really thinking. He stared at the page for what seemed like hours, taking in the lines and shades, also noticing the small tear stains scattered across the page.

Had she really been crying when she had been drawing the castle? She hadn't even noticed; odd how things happen sometimes.

Susan watched as her brother looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. He removed the pencil from his ear and placed it against the picture, tilting the pad so that she couldn't see what he was doing.

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was that of a pencil scratching against a pad before Edmund took one last look at it, eyeing it with approval.

Wordlessly he handed the book back to his sister. Her eyes instantly moved to the small change that had been made to her work, and smiled.

Up at the top right corner, exactly where the sun would be had she drawn one, was a single word; written in messy scrawl: Home.

_oOoOoOoOo_

_A/N: There you go :o) A random one shot that I simply couldn't resist writing. I'm getting a little tired of the relentless Susan/Caspian stories, so I figured to throw something substantial in to the mix. It's a little on the short side, but I'm satisfied with it. Thanks for reading; reviews are always appreciated!_


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